


Study Break

by poisonivory



Category: Big Time Rush
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-18 11:36:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2347094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisonivory/pseuds/poisonivory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kissing Dak was a mistake.  Logan's about to make a worse one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Study Break

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place between [Dak Zevon's Guide to Fake Dating in Hollywood](http://archiveofourown.org/works/453212/chapters/777807) and [Jett Stetson's One Hundred Percent Foolproof Heartbreak Cure (Patent Pending)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/904376/chapters/1749379), but I'd suggest reading them both before this. Or you can skip 'em if you just want to read some PWP. ;)

_so are you still mad at me?_

Logan frowned at the text message that had interrupted a perfectly good studying groove. He didn’t recognize the number. _Who is this?_ he texted back. He’d had mysterious texts before, but they were usually either spammers or BTR fans who couldn’t let go, and the latter usually texted him cleavage shots.

_its dak. james gave me ur #_

Logan felt heat creeping up the back of his neck, and scowled as if he could scare the blush off. The last time he’d talked to Dak had been when James had caught them making out on his couch. Dak had awkwardly excused himself, the first time Logan had ever seen him lose his cool, and fled into the night while Logan tried to console his heartbroken best friend.

But now James was happily coupled off with Logan’s ex-girlfriend, which… _almost_ wasn’t weird, and Logan had hoped to let the memory of the time he’d lost his mind and stuck his tongue down Dak Zevon’s throat die a quiet, peaceful death. Apparently that had been too much to ask for.

_I’m not MAD at you. I just disagree with everything you choose to be_ , he typed.

_not EVERYTHING ;)_

Logan scowled harder. Who knew he could hate an emoticon so much? _What do you want?_

_what i cant send a friendly text?_

_We’re not friends_ , Logan typed back, and firmly set his phone aside, as if to end the conversation. It seemed to have worked, because Dak didn’t text again.

Good. This way Logan could get more studying done.

*

_you know my friends get cool industry gossip and movie swag_

It was two days later and Logan was leaving class. He took his phone out of his pocket and frowned at it.

_Camille could get me both of those things, if I cared._

_well i have one thing she doesnt_

Logan had no idea if Dak meant that text to be as dirty as he interpreted it. Either way, he jammed his phone back in his pocket and hurried out of the classroom.

*

_im watching hockey_

_i dont get it_

_its just toothless canadians hitting each other with sticks_

Logan tsked out loud, ignoring the weird looks he got from the other people in the cafe. _You just don’t understand the strategy that goes into the game._

_what strategy is it when they skate into each other and fall down?_

Logan shook the kinks out his neck and flexed his thumbs. Okay, if Dak wanted Hockey 101, he’d get it. Logan just hoped his texting plan was up to snuff.

*

_this awards show is the longest awards show in history. i am going to die in this auditorium._

_Shouldn’t you be paying attention? Why are you texting me?_

_because im bored and youre not boring_

It was the first time anyone had ever said that to Logan. He stared at the phone in his hand and tried not to feel pleased.

*

_yeah well one is called americas pasttime and one is a redneck ballet so i think we both know which is the superior sport_

_Blasphemy! Try saying that to my face._

_youre on. whats your address?_

Logan snorted. Yeah. Like _Dak Zevon_ was going to drive to his apartment to argue the merits of baseball versus hockey. Well, more properly, to _lose_ an argument about the merits of baseball versus hockey. He typed his address, just to prove he was ready to fight on the side of hockey any time, any place, then went back to his books.

He was so wrapped up in understanding the complexities of the aortic valve that the ringing of the buzzer startled him. He ignored it, but it buzzed again, so he got up from his desk and hit the button to release the lock on the front door. The law student across the hall forgot her keys a lot and usually buzzed Logan to let her in. Hitting the buzzer for her had become habit by now.

He’d just sat back down when his phone dinged with a new text message. _what apartment?_ Dak wanted to know.

Logan rolled his eyes. Was he still on this? _2G_ , he texted back.

His doorbell rang.

Ugh. Was it the guy from upstairs who kept insisting Logan was playing music too loud when Logan had no music on at all? He got up and opened the door...and there was Dak Zevon, wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses and holding a sixpack of beer.

Logan stared. “What are you doing here?”

“My, we do have a short memory,” Dak said. “Let me in, would you? I don’t want to get mobbed in your hallway.”

Too startled to protest, Logan stepped back and Dak slipped past him into the apartment. Logan closed the door, then turned to face Dak, who had removed his cap and glasses and was finger-combing his hair back into shape. “Uh. Not to be rude, but again: why are you here?”

“You invited me,” Dak said. Logan stared blankly. “Remember? To argue the merits of hockey versus the game of kings?”

“That’s chess,” Logan said automatically. “Wait, you were serious about coming over?”

Dak put the beer down on Logan’s coffee table. “Hey, when a cute guy invites me over to argue about sports, I don’t fool around. That is, unless you want me to.” He winked at Logan. “Hey, you got a bottle opener?”

Logan felt a blush creeping up the back of his neck. “I...look, Dak, if this is about what happened at James’s place...”

Dak walked into the kitchen. “Never mind, I’ll find it. Wow, this is a pretty nice space. Why do you have three toasters?”

“It depends on the kind of toast I want,” Logan said as Dak started opening drawers. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for your bottle opener, remember? Keep up,” Dak said. “Huh, you have almost as many takeout menus as I do.”

Logan hastily closed the menu drawer. There was no reason to be embarrassed; he was a young guy with a busy schedule. Still, he didn’t need Dak riffling through his things. “It’s over here,” he said, opening the correct drawer and handing the bottle opener to Dak before he remembered that he hadn’t invited Dak over to drink beer. “Wait, hang on.”

But Dak was already back in the living room, setting the carton down on the coffee table and taking two bottles out. “Coasters, nice. Very classy.”

Logan had not been able to train any of his friends to use coasters. He tried not to be impressed. “Dak, you can’t be here right now. I’m studying.”

“You’re always studying. Take a break,” Dak said.

“I can’t.”

Dak shrugged. “Then I’ll accept your concession that baseball is a superior sport to hockey.”

Logan’s jaw set. “Fine. Give me the remote.” He sat down and flipped to ESPN Classic. “Okay, here. Devils versus Caps. Not my favorite teams, but even peewee hockey is superior to a bunch of guys standing around and spitting for six hours.”

“Well I’m sorry people don’t get concussed and arrested every other play in my sport,” Dak said. His eyebrows lifted. “Anyway, baseball is about strategy, and math, and stats. I would’ve thought you’d be into that. You’ve got that whole sexy nerd thing going on.”

The flush that had receded from the back of Logan’s neck came back with a vengeance. “I...uh...”

But Dak was already opening a bottle of the fancy microbrew he’d brought and handing it to Logan. “Here. This stuff is terrible but they only make like three batches a year so you have to drink it.”

Logan took a tentative sip. “Ugh, it tastes like someone wrung out a thousand jockstraps in a lead barrel and let it ferment for a year.”

“I know, isn’t it great?” Dak asked.

Logan put the beer down. “Really, Dak - why are you here? You can’t honestly be so bored that you needed to come over here to drink terrible beer and insult hockey.”

“Well, no, but I figured we could drink terrible beer and insult hockey and then make out,” Dak said. “Maybe fool around. I don’t know how fast you typically move.”

“I - what?” Logan spluttered. “But - wh - I - _what?_ ”

Dak shrugged. “I don’t think it’s that crazy. We’re both into dudes, we have chemistry, and we’ve been flirting for weeks.”

“We have not been flirting for weeks!” Logan said indignantly.

Dak raised an eyebrow. “Uh, hello? You’ve been texting me, like, constantly.”

“You’ve been texting _me!_ I was just being polite!”

“You invited me over!”

“That was just a figure of speech!”

“ _Sure_ it was,” Dak said with an obnoxiously knowing expression. “Anyway, you’re hot, and you seemed interested, which makes sense because I’m basically amazing, and Camille said you just need someone to be really persistent with you because you’re kind of clueless, so...”

“You talked to my ex-girlfriend about me?” Logan asked, righteous anger warring with the fact that Dak had just called him hot.

Dak shrugged. “Duh. I had to reconnoiter, didn’t I?”

“That is a total invasion of privacy!”

“What, are your past dating records sealed by a court order or something?” Dak asked. “Like I was saying, I figured you’d be into it because, well, look at me...”

“That is completely - ”

“...and you’re kind of a private dude who’s done the celebrity thing so you get that we have to be discreet...”

“I don’t - ”

“...and to be honest I’ve been thinking about that kiss for a while now so this way we can both get our rocks off and get it out of our systems - ”

Logan kissed him. Dak, mercifully, shut up.

But only until Logan pulled back. Dak raised his eyebrows, smirked, and said “Couldn’t resist me, could you?”

Logan glared. “That was only to get you to stop talking. And also because you used the word ‘reconnoiter’ correctly.”

Dak’s smirk grew even smirkier, damn him. “So that’s what gets you hot, huh? Should I go get a thesaurus? Wanna hear me conjugate, babe?”

The word “conjugate” had always sounded dirty, but never more so than in Dak’s mouth. Logan scowled harder. Dak didn’t need to know that did it for Logan.

“You have two options,” he said, standing up so he could take his phone out of his pocket. “One, you take your terrible beer and get out so I can study. Or two, you quit talking and we make out until…” He tapped something on his phone and held it up to show Dak. “... _this_ timer goes off.”

Dak’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re setting a timer for _making out?_ ”

“Yes. Because I have a test next week, and also I think that’s about how long I can go without wanting to throttle you.” Logan’s finger hovered near the button that would start the timer. “Well?”

Dak smiled at him, an expectant, predatory expression that made Logan’s heart rate pick up. “Hit it.”

Logan took a deep breath, then tapped the button. Dak tugged hard at the bottom of Logan’s shirt, pulling him down so suddenly that he dropped the phone and fell into Dak’s lap. “You know you’re cute when you’re bossy?” Dak asked.

“Shut up,” Logan said, and kissed him.

Logan had tried hard to purge his memory of that kiss with Dak weeks ago, but Dak was a good enough kisser that every detail had seemed burned into his mind. Now he found that his memory had actually downplayed things. Dak smelled good and tasted better, even with that garbage beer still on his tongue, and he kissed Logan like he’d been thinking about their last kiss as much as Logan had.

“See?” Dak murmured as he kissed his way around the corner of Logan’s jaw and up to his ear. “Isn’t this better than hockey?”

It seemed that even making out couldn’t stop Dak’s motormouth, but Logan didn’t feel like arguing the point. He’d never tell Kendall, but yes, it turned out that kissing a hot movie star _was_ , in fact, better than hockey.

Dak’s hands splayed against Logan’s back, then inched their way down over the curve of Logan’s ass. Logan only half-noticed, distracted what Dak was doing to his neck, until Dak squeezed, making Logan jump.

“Hey!” he protested, but without much vigor.

Dak gave him a lopsided grin. His hair was mussed from Logan’s hands, his shirt bunched awkwardly, but somehow he looked even better rumpled than he did polished. “Hey, I’ve only got ten minutes. I’ve gotta make them count.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “And how exactly do you plan to escalate this within ten minutes to ‘make them count?’”

Dak grinned wider, then turned them sideways and pinned Logan against the cushions, with his head on the armrest and his right leg hooked over the back of the couch. “Wait!” Logan spluttered. “Wait, wait, stop!”

Dak pulled back immediately. “Sorry, was that too much? I didn’t - ”

“Shoes!” Logan said, holding up his right foot to keep the sole from touching the back cushions. “No shoes on the couch!”

Dak looked like he was biting back a laugh, but he sat up, tugged Logan’s right shoe off, and tossed it on the floor behind the couch. Then he reached down to pull Logan’s left shoe off, then toed off his own, before leaning back down towards Logan. “Really?” he asked, mouth quirking.

Logan shrugged, a little embarrassed but mostly relieved he wouldn’t have mud ground into the upholstery. “What? I paid a lot of money for this couch.”

“Oh my _God_ , you’re cute,” Dak said, and kissed him again.

Logan wasn’t sure how to feel about Dak’s words, so he ignored them and concentrated on Dak’s mouth. That was a lot less confusing. Dak kissed like he did everything else: with aggressive confidence, and more than a little teasing. And as much as Logan hated to admit it, he liked it.

Dak’s thumb slid up under the hem of Logan’s shirt. Logan spared a distracted, anxious thought to wonder how far Dak was planning on getting in ten minutes, but Dak just left his thumb on Logan’s hipbone, a gesture as casual as it was intimate. Part of Logan wanted to yank his clothes off and see what else Dak wanted to touch, but that was the stupid part of Logan, the part that went ghost hunting with Carlos and took dating advice from James, and Logan had set the timer specifically to keep Stupid Logan’s decision-making ability contained.

Instead, he curved his hand around the angle of Dak’s jaw, feeling the faintest scrape of stubble against his palm, and used his other hand to ruche Dak’s shirt against the broad, shifting muscles of his back, and wondered how he could have ever thought he liked girls.

Then Dak pressed against Logan’s hip, and Logan abruptly remembered another thing he liked about boys.

“Dak,” he mumbled, as Dak mouthed at his throat, as he twisted his fingers tighter in Dak’s shirt, but then he trailed into silence - or a startled, eager gasp as Dak found a particularly sensitive spot, which was _like_ silence - because he wasn’t sure what to say. “I have moral and personal reservations against everything that you stand for so I’d really appreciate it if you stopped being so good at making out” seemed inappropriate.

Stupid Logan wanted to tell Dak not to stop. Stupid Logan wanted to tell Dak that the bed was a lot more comfortable than the couch. Stupid Logan wanted to tell Dak that the way his smile slanted sideways made Logan’s toes curl and every embarrassingly dirty thought he’d ever had crowd into his mind at once.

The timer went off.

Dak pulled back, but he didn’t get off of Logan - just waited as Logan reached blindly for the coffee table, fumbling for the phone and the off button. The alarm chimed loudly into the silence, over and over, until Logan’s hand slammed down awkwardly on it, flipping it off the table and onto the floor. There was a nasty crack as it hit the ground, and it was probably broken, but it had lasted eight months, longer than any phone Logan had ever had, and at least the alarm was off.

He looked at Dak. Dak’s mouth was red, he was breathing hard, and his hair was even messier than before. He smiled, and it slanted sideways.

And Stupid Logan pulled him back down for another kiss.

“Knew you’d make the right call,” Dak mumbled against his lips when they broke for air.

“Don’t talk,” Logan said, and kissed Dak to show him what he should be doing with his mouth instead. “You talking just makes me second guess letting you stay.”

Surprisingly, Dak didn’t argue with that, just bent his head again. Logan wouldn’t have bet money that Dak was more interested in making out with him than being right, but apparently his gambling instinct was off. It was surprisingly flattering.

They kissed until Logan’s lips were tingling, until he’d dragged Dak’s shirt halfway up his back. Dak’s whole palm was under his shirt now, warm pulse beating against his bare skin, and when he said “Dak” and Dak pulled back to look at him his blue eyes were hazy, pupils blown wide, and God, Logan was so hard.

“I’m not having sex with you on my couch,” Logan said.

Dak licked his lips, because he was trying to kill Logan. “Okay,” he said, but he looked uncertain, like he wasn’t sure whether that was Logan kicking him out or just putting the brakes on.

Logan swallowed. “The bedroom’s over there,” he said, and nodded towards the open door.

Dak scrambled to his feet so fast Logan would’ve laughed if he wasn’t too busy being baffled by his own behavior. He held out his hands, a surprisingly thoughtful gesture, and helped Logan off the couch. “After you.”

“What, no age before beauty?” Logan asked as he walked towards the bedroom. He was kind of glad he was in front, to be honest, since he wasn’t at all sure what his face was doing.

“I am only two years older than you, and also exceptionally beautiful,” Dak said. “But I like this view.”

Now Logan was _really_ glad Dak couldn’t see his face - but then they were in the bedroom, and he had to either turn around or narrow their sexual options down to one that Logan was pretty sure he didn’t want to leap into this early in the game. So he turned, and found Dak bearing down on him with a predatory expression on his face that left Logan unable to move, mostly because he didn’t want to.

Dak kissed him, hands sliding down to grab Logan’s ass again. This time Logan had no complaints, especially when Dak used that grip to grind against Logan. Logan bit back as much as he could of a moan and plucked at Dak’s shirt. “Pants. Off. Now.”

“This is a shirt, Logan,” Dak said, grinning. “I thought you were the smart one.” But he stepped back and tugged his shirt over his head.

Logan knew what Dak looked like with his shirt off - all of LA did, after three months of Dak’s _Surf Cop_ billboard looming beachily over La Cienega - but real life was way better. The billboard showed the impressive muscle definition, but not the freckles on Dak’s shoulders, or the hint of hair disappearing into his waistband. And Billboard Dak didn’t cheerfully drop his pants on Logan’s floor, leaving him in just a pair of boxer briefs that did nothing to hide his arousal. Advantage: Real Dak.

Dak raised an eyebrow and pointed at Logan. “Pants. Off. Now.”

“I was getting to it,” Logan insisted, and struggled out of his own shirt, a bit less gracefully than Dak had doffed his. He sent a silent thank you to James for dragging him on semi-regular jogs and into one-on-one hockey games since the band broke up; he didn’t have Dak’s movie star body, or even his own teenage boy band body, but at least stripping in front of Dak like this only left him feeling _extremely_ embarrassed and not crawling-out-of-his-own- _skin_ embarrassed.

He stumbled trying to clamber out of his jeans and they got stuck on his foot, but finally he managed to shake them off and kick them halfway across the room. Then he stood there, in his boxers and socks, and forced himself to look Dak in the eye.

Dak shook his head slowly. “Why are you wasting all this on the medical profession, Mitchell? Hotness like this should stay in the entertainment industry.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Look, Dak, I have a lot of studying to do, so if you’re going to make fun of me…”

“You have no idea, do you?” Dak said, mouth quirking as he moved in close again. “All those years of _Pop Tiger_ pinups and screaming fans, and you have no idea.”

And he dropped to his knees.

“Dak,” Logan said, and swallowed.

Dak’s hands skimmed up Logan’s thighs, settling on his hips. “I want to make this very clear,” he said, blue eyes wide and serious as he looked up at Logan. “I am shallow as _fuck_. And I’ve been thinking about doing this to you for weeks.”

He leaned in and kissed Logan’s stomach, just above his waistband. Logan’s breath hitched. Then Dak curved his fingers under the band, tugging it gently down, easing it over Logan’s erection and letting the boxers fall in a puddle around Logan’s feet. He tapped Logan’s left ankle gently.

“Come on, we both know you’ll fall if we leave these around your ankles,” he said.

For once, Logan had no desire to argue with him. He obligingly lifted his left foot and let Dak pull his boxers over it, then tug his sock off. “Socks on during sex? Come on, Mitchell, this isn’t MInnesota. Your toes will survive these balmy Pacific breezes.”

“Wasn’t having a whole lot of sex in Minnesota,” Logan said before he could stop himself.

Dak quirked that crooked grin up at him. “Well, you’ll just have to make up for lost time, won’t you?” he asked. He pulled boxers and sock off Logan’s right foot and tossed them aside. “Now, where were we? Oh, right…”

Logan bit his lip, afraid to say something that would ruin this highly improbable scenario, or even just distract Dak from the task at hand by forcing him to think of a witty rejoinder. But thanks to whatever stupidly lucky star Logan had been born under, Dak looked totally focused. One warm, strong hand landed on Logan’s hip; the other curved around the base of his dick, making Logan’s teeth sink harder into his lip.

Then Dak leaned in and dragged his tongue across the head of Logan’s cock.

“ _Hrnnf_ ,” Logan said, and balled his fingers into fists to keep them out of Dak’s hair. Dak’s eyes danced pure amusement up at him as he licked him again, longer this time, slow exploratory licks like he was committing Logan to sense memory using only his tongue. Logan’s gaze stayed locked on Dak, trying to figure out how someone this good-looking had ended up in _his_ bedroom, doing _this_.

And then it got even better and more improbable, because Dak wrapped his lips around Logan and _sucked_ , and nothing in the world could keep Logan’s hands out of Dak’s hair then. Dak didn’t seem to mind, just flicked those blue eyes up at him for an instant before getting back to business. And he was very, _very_ good at that business. Logan wondered briefly how many other former teen idols Dak had practiced on before banishing that thought for being both mean and fruitless. Neither he and Dak were under any illusions about what this was, so there was no sense getting all precious about jealousy and _feelings_ \- not when everything else that was happening right now was so very excellent.

Dak’s tongue pressed just below the head and Logan’s balance shorted out for a second. He wobbled, clutching Dak’s shoulder for support. Dak pulled off and gave Logan a wry look. “Maybe you’d better lie down if we don’t want this to end in tears.”

“Yeah, that’d be good,” Logan managed, and backed up the few feet onto the bed. He sprawled on top of the covers, too far gone to worry about how he looked spread out like a buffet or the hospital corners getting mussed.

Dak followed him onto the bed, settling between his legs, and maybe he liked this angle better or maybe he was just relieved that Logan was no longer likely to fall on him, but he dove back onto Logan’s dick like...well, like he’d been thinking about it as much as he claimed he had. Logan wasn’t about to complain, not when Dak’s mouth was so talented, hot and wet and eager. Dak curved a hand around Logan’s hip and sucked harder, and Logan’s hands found their way back to Dak’s hair as he fought to keep himself from thrusting up, up into that beautiful mouth.

“ _Fffuck_ ,” he said instead, and that was definitely laughter in Dak’s eyes as he glanced up, but Logan didn’t care, he just didn’t want Dak to stop, and he didn’t want Dak to look away, either. “Dak. Jesus Christ, Dak.”

Dak hollowed his cheeks, one hand pumping the part of Logan’s shaft he couldn’t reach with his mouth, and Logan’s fingers twisted in Dak’s hair. “Fuck, you’re pretty,” he managed. Dak let out a muffled chuckle at that. “Don’t… _hh_...don’t let it go to your head or anything.”

Dak gave him a playful pinch, and Logan yelped. Then he promptly forgot about the pinch, because Dak was still doing wonderful things with his mouth, and that was all Logan wanted to think about - not school, not his impending med school applications, and not the fact that this was probably a bad idea because he’d never been a one night stand guy and any kind of relationship with Dak had disaster written all over it. It was especially easy to forget about that one looking down at Dak, at the gorgeous line of his cheekbones, his bare skin against Logan’s duvet, the redness of his mouth stretched around Logan’s dick. With Dak bobbing his head on Logan’s cock Logan didn’t particularly care if this was all ill-advised, not when it felt so sweet and Dak seemed so into it and all Logan knew was that he didn’t...want Dak...to stop…

“Dak,” he said suddenly, tugging a warning on Dak’s hair. “ _Dak_. I’m...I’m gonna…”

But Dak just smiled up at him, some Hollywood thing he could do with only his eyes, and sucked harder, and Logan didn’t know if it was the eye contact or the clear intent to stay put or just the inevitable conclusion of the best damn blowjob he’d ever had in his life, but he gasped and shuddered and _came_. Dak swallowed around him as he did and Logan shut his eyes, shivering through the aftershocks.

Finally Dak pulled off. Logan opened his eyes to see Dak wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a gesture so casually filthy it threatened to get him going again. He sat back on his heels. “Now wasn’t that better than studying?”

In that position it was easy to see how hard Dak was - not just hard, but leaking through his boxer briefs. Logan crooked a tired finger at him. “If I fail, I’m telling my professors it’s your fault.”

Dak crawled up over him, which was so attractive as to be frankly implausible. “Give me an alias and I’ll happily take the blame.”

“I’ll tell them a basketball-playing vampire seduced me,” Logan said. “Not sure they’ll believe it, though.” A movie star was hardly more likely, but Logan wasn’t going to tell his professors about his sex life in any case. He was still trying to get his head around the fact that he suddenly _had_ a sex life again, at least for today.

“Eh, you’re cute enough. I bet you have all the vampires after you,” Dak said, and kissed him, the taste of Logan’s come still heavy on his tongue. He was straddling Logan’s thigh, and Logan slid his hand down his bare back and over the curve of his ass. Dak pushed against Logan’s thigh, making a low urgent sound deep in his throat and the muscles shift under Logan’s hand. “Logan. _Please_.”

Logan let his hand slip unto Dak’s underwear, which felt a bit daring even though he’d just had his dick in Dak’s mouth. “What do you want?” he asked. “Do you want me to suck you off?” He could feel himself blushing; he wasn’t good at any kind of dirty talk, but he suspected Dak would laugh at him if he offered to “administer fellatio.”

Dak’s hips stuttered back and forth, as if he couldn’t decide whether to grind against Logan’s thigh or back into his hand. “Next time,” he said, surprising Logan, who hadn’t realized Dak was planning on coming back. “Right now I just...I just need...fuck, Logan, just _touch_ me.”

There was a rough edge to his voice that Logan hadn’t noticed before. He grabbed Logan’s free hand and pressed Logan’s open palm against his erection. Logan squeezed him gently through the damp cotton of his boxer briefs, then tugged them down around Dak’s thighs. Dak’s cock was hard and flushed dark and when Logan wrapped his hand around it he whimpered and bit at Logan’s shoulder.

“Jesus, Dak…” he said softly, giving Dak an experimental stroke. Dak was clearly painfully hard, just from going down on Logan. It was a stunningly hot realization.

“Logan…” Dak whined. Logan had never heard something so hot and so petulant at the same time.

He took his hands away, causing Dak to whine again, and gave him a gentle shove to roll him onto his back, then curled against his side. This was a much better position; when he wrapped his hand around Dak’s shaft and stroked he had more room to move, more leeway to experiment with the angle and the speed. Plus he could really _look_ at Dak like this, sprawled in his bed, chest flushed and heaving raggedly. The smug, self-possessed movie star was gone, replaced by a Dak who was eager and needy and desperate for Logan to get him off. Logan liked him better like this.

“You like this?” he asked, and was surprised by how low and rough his voice came out.

Dak shivered and nodded. “Y-yeah,” he said, then, “Faster. Fuck, Logan, _please_.”

Logan obeyed and Dak rocked up into his fist, hips snapping up on every downstroke. He clutched at Logan, dragging him down into a kiss, hot and messy. “Logan,” he panted against Logan’s cheek, “Logan, come on, don’t stop…”

Logan had no intention of stopping, not when Dak looked this good; not when his name sounded so much better when it was Dak saying it, _pleading_ it. “Dak,” he said again, because he still didn’t know how to dirty talk, but maybe Dak liked his own name on Logan’s tongue as much as Logan liked his on Dak’s. “Dak. _Fuck_ you’re hot.”

“Logan,” Dak gasped again, blunt nails digging into Logan’s shoulder. “I’m so...I can’t…” and then Logan twisted his wrist on the downstroke and Dak’s hips snapped up and he came with a shout, all over Logan’s hand.

Logan stroked him through it. Dak’s eyes were shut tight and Logan took the opportunity to study him, fascinated by the way his abs clenched and tightened with each aftershock, entranced by the shape of his parted lips and the crescent of dark lashes against his cheeks. He’d never noticed the spray of tiny freckles across Dak’s cheekbones before.

After a minute Dak made a soft, slightly pained sound and pushed Logan’s hand away. Logan leaned back and waited.

Finally Dak opened his eyes and smiled at Logan, sleepy and satisfied. Something tightened in Logan’s chest.

“Please tell me you have tissues,” Dak said.

“Um,” Logan said. “Yeah. I just...hang on.”

He reached past Dak to the nightstand, grabbed the box of tissues, and took a couple to wipe his hand clean before giving the box to Dak. They cleaned themselves up silently, Dak propped up on his elbows, Logan sitting up next to him. Dak handed Logan the dirty tissues when he was done and Logan looked uncertainly at the pile in his hands before throwing them all under the bed.

“Um. So,” he said. He wasn’t the _most_ experienced guy in the world, but usually at this stage he got up to begin his getting-ready-for-bed routine, and by the time he’d completed his ten-minute flossing regimen, the other guy was usually asleep. But it was the middle of the afternoon, his gums were spotless, and somehow he didn’t think Dak planned on staying the night.

Dak reached out and gave him a tired pat on the thigh. “I gotta hand it to you, Mitchell - that was the best game of hockey I ever watched.”

_Mitchell_. Not Logan. Logan gave Dak half of a smile and the other half of a shrug. “It’s a great sport.”

Dak grinned, every inch the movie star again. “You just keep telling yourself that.” He sat up and started finger-combing his hair into something resembling order. “I should let you get back to studying. I’ve got some scripts to read anyway.”

“Sure, yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” Logan said. “Got my first quiz in neurobiology on Monday. Gotta start the semester off right.”

He followed Dak’s lead as Dak got off the bed and started searching for his clothing. Logan hid a wince as he pulled his shirt on; he was sweaty and tired and all he really wanted was to take a shower or a nap. But Dak was probably right about the studying.

Once dressed, Dak headed into the living room and shoved his feet back into his shoes. He picked up what remained of the six-pack. “You can finish those up,” he said, pointing to the two open beers, the flavor of which Logan suspected was not improved by their now being both warm and flat.

But all he said was, “Thanks,” and watched as Dak put his baseball cap and sunglasses back on, checked his reflection in his phone camera, and headed for the door.

“See you around,” Dak said, throwing a cheery grin Logan’s way. “Tell James and Camille I said hi if you talk to them.”

“I will,” Logan said. “Good luck with those scripts. Hope there’s something good in them.”

Dak shrugged. “Eh, we’ll see. Later!”

He checked the hallway and, finding it empty, slipped out, letting it shut behind him.

Logan crossed over to the door and locked it. Then he picked up the two beers, carried them into the kitchen, and poured them down the sink.

He was being silly. So they’d had sex, and Dak had left immediately after. Logan was no romantic; that was Kendall. In fact, Logan had scored least romantic of all his friends on the How Romantic Are You? quiz the four of them had taken in one of Katie’s old _Pop Tigers_. What was he expecting, for Dak to snuggle up to him afterward and swear undying love? Logan _hated_ sticky post-coital cuddling, and he didn’t even like Dak very much. Sleeping with him had been an impulsive decision entirely driven by physical desire, and now that he’d achieved physical satisfaction, the matter should be over and done with.

Besides, he should be feeling pretty good about himself right about now. He’d just banged a movie star! Sure, a lot of his friends were celebrities and he’d once been one himself, but that didn’t make this particular notch on his bedpost any less impressive. After all, how many guys could say they’d slept with Dak Zevon?

On second thought, he didn’t want to know the answer to that.

He tossed the empty bottles in the recycling, straightened up the living room, and sat back down at his desk. That had been an unexpected and bizarre break, but now he needed to get back to work. From here on out, he was thinking about neurobiology, and not Dak.

His phone dinged, and he checked the text he’d just gotten through the cracked screen.

_next time were watching baseball ;)_

Next time?

Logan shook his head and turned his phone off. He had studying to do.


End file.
